Work Text:
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Killian Jones, Emma Swan
Word count: 938
Summary: Emma tries to get her pirate to lower his walls, just a little. Some fluffy Captain Swan hurt/comfort. Mostly comfort.
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine.
Saviour
It had been a rough day, but the rain against the roof had quickly lulled Killian into sleep. Emma wasn't so fortunate, her mind continuing to replay the events of the past few hours. But she remains still and feigns sleep for Killian's sake, her hand resting on her pirate's bare chest, her face pressed into his shoulder. They stay that way for some time until Killian's breath hitches softly, his muscles tightening as he came back to awareness.
"Killian?" Emma whispers, stretching her arm further across him to steady him in place.
She tilts her head to watch his face. Killian's eyes are open, but his expression is obscured in shadows. She props herself up on one elbow and runs her fingers over his jaw, his stubble somewhat bristly against her fingertips.
"Are you alright?"
"Aye," his voice barely a breath against her wrist.
She can feel the tension in his body though and she knows he's lying. She draws her fingers over his brow, feeling the furrow between his eyebrows.
"Is your wound bothering you?"
Killian lets out a quiet sigh, and she's not sure if it's frustration or resignation.
"I'm alright, love."
Frustration, then. The wound in question is an ugly gash just below the left side of his ribs, the result of the afternoon's misadventures. It wasn't life-threatening - thank God, Emma had said aloud when she pulled aside his shirt and could see that despite the amount of blood, the wound wasn't as deep as she'd feared. It had since been cleaned, sewed, and bandaged, because Killian had waved her away and said he’d survived worse, and he didn’t need her to “waste her magic” on him. Killian had endured it all with barely a flinch, though sweat rolled freely down his temples and his jaw was so clenched so tight Emma was worried he’d damage his teeth.
"Do you need anything?" Emma asks now, "Water? Are you cold? I can get another blanket-"
Killian grabs her wrist, halting her motion away from him.
"No, I'm f-fine."
The assurance falls flat as Killian stutters through it, his breath catching, and his jaw tightens. Trying to conceal the pain his quick movement had caused and doing a very poor job of it, Emma thinks.
"Stop worrying about me, Emma," Killian says, finally meeting her concerned gaze, a soft smile on his lips.
"Never," Emma whispers.
His eyebrows bounce as his smile widens. God, those stupid adorable eyebrows. They never seem to sit still. Just another thing she loved about him.
"You don't have to keep up this pretense with me, you know," she says, running her fingers through his hair.
"What are you talking about?"
Like he doesn't know.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. This... this tough pirate thing. It's okay to admit when you're hurting."
"Emma..."
He turns his head away from her, his defensive walls going up. She gently pulls him back, hand on his cheek, but he won't look at her.
"I know you want to keep up appearances in front of the others. But it's just me here, Killian. I wish you’d feel like you can be honest with me when you’re hurting."
"You won't... you won't think me weak?"
His question is barely audible at all, his gaze firmly fixed on the ceiling.
"No, of course not," Emma assures him, and she punctuates the statement with a deep kiss.
Killian still tastes of the rum he’d downed in his attempt to withstand the pain (much to Emma’s dismay - can’t you just take pain meds like an ordinary person, to which Killian had wiggled those damn eyebrows and smirked that smile and said I’m sure you’ve realized by now that I’m far from ordinary, Swan). He returns her kiss, almost desperate, his hand at the back of her head, but she knows they can't do much more tonight. Not without the risk of popping open those carefully threaded stitches. She settles down beside him again and her hand returns to his chest, her thumb brushing back and forth over the hairs. Killian's quiet for some time, and then his hand drifts down to rest over the bandages, allowing his lips to twist into a grimace as he does so.
"I suppose... it is causing me some discomfort."
“Do you want me to heal it?” Emma asks.
He shakes his head slightly.
“You don’t need to w-”
“It won’t be a waste, Killian. And it’s not like I can run out of magic. I don’t think I can, anyway.”
He goes quiet again, and she lets him think it over, content to keep stroking his chest idly. The pattering rain is starting to make her sleepy as well.
“I do believe it would be bad form to deny your wishes a third time today, Emma,” Killian finally says.
“So that’s a yes, then?”
“It is.”
Emma props herself up again and hovers her hand over his side. In a moment, a soft glow radiates from her palm and Killian tenses. She wonders how it feels to be healed by magic. She gathers from Killian’s reaction that it’s not wholly pleasant. But in a moment it's finished, Killian settles again, and with a flick of her hand, Emma teleports the bandages off his torso and into the trashcan.
“Now that I am able, was there something else you wished to do with me?” Killian asks.
As if the deep, husky tone of his voice wasn’t enough, where his hand has gone certainly makes it clear what he’s talking about. And Emma decides maybe she’s not that sleepy after all.
END